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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679376">The Boy with the Broken Halo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyjane/pseuds/misslucyjane'>misslucyjane</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sinnerman [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Constantine (TV), Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, BAMF Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Bisexual John Constantine, Bisexual Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Blow Jobs, Bottom John Constantine, Bottom Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Crossover, Crossover Pairings, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, First Times, Flashbacks, John Constantine Needs A Hug, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Violence, Mucous Membrane, Not Canon Compliant, Offscreen Violence, Protective Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Punk Music, Singing, Top John Constantine, Top Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), author loves music so brace yourself, canon mashup, lucifer is a musician too, meaningful music choices, music appreciation, musician appreciation, new relationships, rock star john constantine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:48:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyjane/pseuds/misslucyjane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer, London, 2003.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Constantine/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sinnerman [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894249</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>123</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Performance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A note about canon: I call this a "canon mashup" because I'm taking the bits I like best and ignoring the rest. I've watched both series and read some of the comics (mostly Hellblazer), and it's all just a jumping-off point. Consider this an AU of sorts: I'm playing with other people's toys in my own sandbox.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>On a rainy night in Soho, Lucifer goes to see a band.</p><p>Nothing will ever be the same.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Author knows nothing of the early 2000s punk scene and it shows.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">The last time Lucifer Morningstar was in the 100 Club, it was to see a rare surprise live show by the Rolling Stones. The atmosphere of the club has changed little since -- tonight it's loud and raucous, filled with boys and girls with spiky hair and knee-high boots, mini-skirts and leather jackets, tight jeans and T-shirts with anarchist slogans.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer spent his visit in the Seventies in New York and didn't return to CBGB's after the first time he got spit on. Punk was not really his scene, but the scene is still thriving in 2003 London, piquing his curiosity enough to bring him out tonight.</p><p class="p2">He has a handkerchief at the ready, though as far as he can tell as the opening act plays, spitting as a show of appreciation seems to have fallen aside in the last thirty years. Lucifer removes his raincoat and tucks his umbrella in a coat pocket, orders a martini at the bar and ambles through the crowd -- and it is a crowd, there's barely room to move let alone an open table -- toward the front of the audience with his coat over his arm.</p><p class="p2">He's never heard of the headliner, but given the size of the crowd and their excited chatter as roadies set up the instruments, he's the only one here who hasn't. The name painted on the drums is Mucous Membrane, a name that makes Lucifer give a delicate shudder and hope the band's creativity got better in the days since they chose their name.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer finds a spot near the front of the stage but away from the thickest of the crowd, when the house lights go down, and everyone presses forward and starts cheering. Three young men come onto the stage and the cheering grows louder, particularly as the front man picks up his guitar and slings it over his shoulder. He wears the guitar low on his hips, and gives the crowd a knowing smile.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer stands a little straighter. All it takes is that smile and the crowd is screaming and clutching for the lead singer, and Lucifer feels the same energy propel him forward with the rest of them. The lead singer is slim and blond, his dark brown eyes lined with kohl, and it seems to Lucifer that he knows things he'll only share if you ask very, very nicely. The sleeves of his black T-shirt are ripped off, revealing the compact muscles of his biceps. His jeans are tight enough to hint at what's awaiting some lucky so-and-so after the show.</p><p class="p2">The lead singer says simply, "We're Mucous Membrane!" and the band tears into the first song. Even the boy's singing voice, as he snarls lyrics into the microphone and the drummer and bassist's dark heads nod in time, has a tuneful quality to it that reminds Lucifer more of Joey Ramone than Johnny Rotten.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer watches the boy move, fascinated with how someone so young knows just how to play the crowd, how to get them to sing along, how to make them dance, how to banter with them so that they hang on his every word. There are girls at the front of the stage, and a few boys, too, who watch him with adoring eyes. The boy gives them smiles and nods as if he's promising every one that he'll make their dreams come true.</p><p class="p2">Enough people know the words to the songs that Lucifer thinks the band must be getting some radio play. He wonders if they've been on Top of the Pops. He wonders if Top of the Pops is still around.</p><p class="p2">The band is about halfway through their set when the boy's eyes meet Lucifer's. The boy has barely missed a note all night, but, flatteringly, he fumbles a chord as they gaze at each other, badly enough that the bassist's head whips around to check on him.</p><p class="p2">It's nearly a physical sensation, the moment of connection. Lucifer's fingers spasm when the boy misses the chord. His skin shivers.</p><p class="p2">But the boy picks the tune up again easily, and only glances in Lucifer's direction as he takes the song through its chorus and last verse.</p><p class="p2">From the moment the lead singer took the stage, Lucifer has been toying with the idea of introducing himself to him after the show. This moment seals it. He can still feel the boy's dark eyes on him even when the boy is determined not to look his way again.</p><p class="p2">The current furious song comes to a close, and the boy steps back to whisper something to his bandmates. The bassist laughs but nods in agreement. The drummer tosses a drumstick up and catches it again. The boy says into the microphone, "We're going to slow things down a bit tonight."</p><p class="p2">The bassist starts a slow riff, and the drummer joins in with the beat. The boy picks up the melody, and sings in a voice that much sweeter than his previous snarling delivery would indicate.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Good feeling, won't you stay with me just a little longer</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Always seems like you're leaving when I need you here, just a little longer</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2">The boys and girls at the front of the stage swoon. The lead singer ignores them, though, and his gaze finds Lucifer's.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Oh dear lady, there's so many things that I have come to fear</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Little voice says I'm going crazy, to see all my worlds just disappear</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2">Amazing, Lucifer thinks, the boy is seducing him from the stage, and no one else has noticed. His eyes, his hips, even his fingers, all say, "Look at me. Want me. Come with me, and I'll take you to paradise."</p><p class="p2">Of course, Lucifer admits, it's possible everybody else in the audience thinks the boy is seducing them, too.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Vague sketch of a fantasy, laughing at the sunrise like he's been up at night</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Oh, slipping and sliding, what a good time</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>But now I have to find a bed that can take this weight</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2">Lucifer sips his martini, his own gaze fixed on the boy's. The song intrigues him, too; when singers have tried to seduce him before, they've chosen songs like "Hey Good-Lookin'" or "Let's Get It On," songs that were obvious in their intent. This song is lovely but melancholy, sensual but not overtly sexual.</p><p class="p2">He likes it. He likes the boy even more for choosing it.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Good feeling, won't you stay with me, just a little longer</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>It always seems like you're leaving, when I know the other one just a little too well</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Oh, dear lady, won't you stay with me just a little longer</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>It always seems like you're leaving when I need you here just a little longer</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2">With a chorus of "Na na"s, joined in by the bassist, the lead singer brings the song to a close, and the nearly silent crowd goes wild again. The lead singer says, "Thank you!" and winks at Lucifer.</p><p class="p2">It's definitely a wink. It's definitely for Lucifer. Lucifer winks back, and the boy grins and tears into the next song.</p><p class="p2">This boy. This blond, slender, talented boy with the dark eyes and knowing smile. Lucifer doesn't especially like the music but he wants to know what's going on behind those eyes, that smile.</p><p class="p2">The set ends when boy shouts into the microphone to cheering and applause, "We've been Mucous Membrane! We love you, good night!" The band strides off stage as the house lights come on again. From Lucifer's angle, he sees the boy leap onto the back of his drummer, who staggers a little but carries him until Lucifer can't see them any longer.</p><p class="p2">Without the band, the crowd drift to the bar or toward the exits, or talk to each other excitedly about the show. Lucifer leaves his glass at the bar and puts on his raincoat again. He makes his way through the club to the backstage area, catching snippets of conversation as he goes. He learns the band has an album out, that they've performed at the 100 Club a dozen times over the last three years, that the lead singer's name is John.</p><p class="p2"><em>John.</em> A perfectly good, perfectly ordinary name. Thousands of men, millions, have borne it. There is is no reason for it to give Lucifer a shiver.</p><p class="p2">But it does.</p><p class="p2">
  <em>His name is John.</em>
</p><p class="p2">Lucifer makes his way through the cramped backstage area to the tiny dressing room. The door is ajar, not that a locked door would stop Lucifer if he wanted to go inside, and within are the bassist and the drummer, snogging two of the prettiest girls who'd been waiting by the stage. No sign of the lead singer, Lucifer realizes in disappointment, and he turns to go. Likely the boy has taken one of the adoring girls or boys back to his place or out to the band's van -- bands like this always have a van -- and no one will see him till morning.</p><p class="p2">"Oi!" one of the boys calls after him, and Lucifer pauses as the bassist runs up to him. "Sorry, I -- are you looking for John?"</p><p class="p2">"I am," Lucifer says.</p><p class="p2">"He said if you came 'round to tell you he's having a smoke outside."</p><p class="p2">"He did?" Lucifer can't stop his smile. "He said me, specifically?"</p><p class="p2">"He said the posh bloke," the bassist says, "and you're the poshest bloke I've ever seen."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer laughs, delighted, and pats the bassist's cheek. "Thank you, my dear boy. Your friend will thank you, too."</p><p class="p2">The bassist blushes, which Lucifer would find charming if he weren't preoccupied, and stands awkwardly in the narrow hallway as Lucifer makes his way to the stage door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Songs</p><p>"Good Feeling", Violent Femmes</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Alley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>John fights dirty, and kisses dirtier.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: fistfight.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">Outside it's still raining, and blustery to boot. Not unusual for London in the fall. Lucifer turns up his coat collar against the wind, and sees the boy leaning against a wall beneath a tiny awning. He's put on a green army surplus jacket, sewn with patches on the sleeves and chest, which looks too thin to be of much use against the weather.</p><p class="p2">The damp is also causing the boy's lighter not to spark. The boy mutters a soft curse as he fruitlessly clicks the wheel.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer takes out his own lighter and sparks it, and holds it for the boy. "Need a light?"</p><p class="p2">The boy looks up at him, and tucks his lighter away in a pocket. "Ta," he murmurs and lights up. He exhales his first plume of smoke as Lucifer leans against the wall beside him. "I saw you at the show."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer lights a cigarette for himself. "I like hearing new music."</p><p class="p2">"Yeah? What'd you think?"</p><p class="p2">The boy is trying so hard to be casual. Lucifer wants to pat his cheek and tell him everything will be all right. "I'm not a fan of punk in general, but I liked your band. Your songs have strong instrumentation and unique lyrics. That slow one was lovely."</p><p class="p2">The boy looks at the ground, flicking ash from his cigarette. "You've never heard it before?"</p><p class="p2">"No. Is it popular?"</p><p class="p2">"It's ..." He squints at Lucifer through trailing cigarette smoke. "It's not mine. I didn't write it, I mean. It's a cover."</p><p class="p2">"Ah," says Lucifer, but knowing the song isn't an original doesn't change his opinion of the boy, or the song, or the connection they both clearly felt. "I've been away for a while. I have a lot of new songs to learn. I'll have to learn that one, too."</p><p class="p2">The boy leans his shoulders against the wall, casually thrusting his hips forward. "You're a musician?"</p><p class="p2">"I'm a pianist, primarily."</p><p class="p2">The boy chuckles dryly, looking out at the rain as he smokes. "Pianist. This isn't your scene, mate."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer smirks at him. "Every scene is my scene."</p><p class="p2">Again the boy chuckles, but it fades away and he smokes contemplatively. Lucifer does as well as he listens to the cars and footsteps splash by on the street beyond the alley.</p><p class="p2">It's been thirty years since he was in London last, but the city never really seems to change. It gets louder and brighter, but the bones remain the same.</p><p class="p2">As do the people. Lucifer's certain he's seen profiles like the boy's on this little island before, those sharp cheekbones, that strong nose -- but then there are those eyes, dark and warm and clever. He doesn't think he's seen anything like them before.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer appreciates beauty everywhere he can find it, and he thinks he could gaze into those eyes for hours and not get bored.</p><p class="p2">The boy says, "So, what's your name, then?"</p><p class="p2">"Lucifer. Morningstar."</p><p class="p2">"Lucifer Morningstar," the boy repeats with a little shake of his head. He sticks out his hand to Lucifer. "Johnny Con-Job."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer laughs and shakes his hand. "Give me your real name, Johnny Con-Job."</p><p class="p2">The boy starts to speak, and then looks at Lucifer through his thick lashes. "It's John. John Constantine."</p><p class="p2">"John Constantine," Lucifer says, still holding his hand. "That's much better than Johnny Con-Job."</p><p class="p2">The boy shrugs, not letting go of Lucifer's hand, either. "Everybody uses fake names."</p><p class="p2">"Use your real one," Lucifer murmurs, and moves from John's side to lean into him and press their joined hands against the wall, over his head. The boy's eyes meet Lucifer's without hesitation. "It's unique and imposing. Wouldn't you rather be memorable than clever?"</p><p class="p2">The boy hesitates, then shakes his head a tiny bit.</p><p class="p2">"No? What do you want? Fame? Money? Lovers? Most rock stars go into it for one of those reasons."</p><p class="p2">"Don't care about fame," the boy whispers, "or money. Lovers aren't hard to find. I want--"</p><p class="p2">"Yes?" Their gazes are locked together. The boy licks his lips and Lucifer mirrors him, longing to taste him. "Tell me, my young musician, what is it you truly desire?"</p><p class="p2">The boy's eyes never wavering from Lucifer's gaze, he breathes, "You," and grabs Lucifer's neck to kiss him.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer laughs, pleased by the boy's straightforward desire. He holds the boy's face and kisses him back, both of them making muffled little sounds of pleasure when the boy's mouth opens and Lucifer can kiss him deep.</p><p class="p2">He tastes of cigarettes and lager. It makes Lucifer want to sample his every flavor.</p><p class="p2">The boy turns Lucifer abruptly, and Lucifer feels bricks against his back. The boy pauses, breathing hard. His eyes dart over Lucifer's face, and then he kisses Lucifer again, slower, his fingers knotting into the hair at the back of Lucifer's head.</p><p class="p2">Oh, this is unexpected, and Lucifer's interest in even more piqued. Normally he dislikes relinquishing control, but the boy takes it so naturally that Lucifer wants to see where he'll go.</p><p class="p2">So far, it's a good place. They kiss, sweet and slow, hands in each other's hair. And then abruptly they snog, shoving their chests together, grinding their hips. The boy is unabashedly hard, making Lucifer dizzy with the need to get his mouth around that cock, and John's hand gropes him eagerly while John makes warm, encouraging sounds. He touches Lucifer like he wants to learn every inch of his body.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer wants let him. He thinks he could have John right in this alley despite the very nice flat with a very large bed that's waiting for them, despite his desire to get John out of his clothes so he can explore that slim, tempting body.</p><p class="p2">"I want your hands all over me," he whispers, and the boy looks at him through his golden-brown lashes.</p><p class="p2">"I want yours on me, sweetheart." He bites Lucifer's neck and Lucifer's breath stutters.</p><p class="p2">He gasps, "Come home with me," and the boy tenses. He rests his head on Lucifer's shoulder. Lucifer rakes his fingers through the boy's hair, but still the boy doesn't look up. "What is it? It is too much?"</p><p class="p2">John speaks to Lucifer's chest. "It -- it's not too much. I want to go home with you. I want this." He squeezes Lucifer through his trousers, and Lucifer inhales sharply and bites his lip. "I want you to shag me until we shake the paint off the walls."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer groans at the image. "You can have that, beautiful boy. I want that, too."</p><p class="p2">"You'll laugh."</p><p class="p2">"Only if you're funny."</p><p class="p2">The boy whispers to Lucifer's chest, "I've never been shagged by a bloke before."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer tips up John's face. The boy is so young and so resigned it makes Lucifer ache. "Do you want to be?"</p><p class="p2">"God, yes."</p><p class="p2">"Don't," Lucifer says, placing his fingers on John's lips. "Don't say that. Say anything else. I don't want to hear that name."</p><p class="p2">John nods, his eyes wide.</p><p class="p2">"Good lad." Lucifer kisses his mouth. "I'll never laugh at you for not having a certain experience. I love new experiences, having them and giving them. And if you want me to be the first bloke that shags you, then I'll be the first bloke that shags you, and I'll make it a night you never forget."</p><p class="p2">The boy groans and sways closer to him. "I've fooled around," he says, his breath hot against Lucifer's neck, "snogging and hands and that, but I've never -- it's stupid, I wanted the right person, but there's no such thing as the right person, there's just the right time and place--"</p><p class="p2">"I'm the right person," Lucifer says with another kiss, which makes the boy groan and clutch at him. "You'll never meet anybody more right."</p><p class="p2">"Oh, Go-- Lucifer, take me home. Do anything you want to me. I want you to."</p><p class="p2">"Yes," Lucifer says, dizzy himself, ready to drop to his knees -- but over John's shoulder he sees movement at the end of the alley.</p><p class="p2">A little gang has gathered there -- five or six hulking men, all wearing black with black caps pulled low over their eyes. All but one carry a weapon, a crowbar or a board with a nail hammered into the end. The one without a weapon has a rope coiled on his belt. It glimmers gold despite the darkness.</p><p class="p2">"John," Lucifer whispers, "we have company."</p><p class="p2">John glance behind him, and winces. "You'd better go back inside. There's going to be some trouble."</p><p class="p2">"They don't look that dangerous to me."</p><p class="p2">"Mate," John says, "you're either foolhardy or a right-out fool."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer grins at him. "Trust me?"</p><p class="p2">John searches Lucifer's face. "Yes," he says as the gang rush at them.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer wraps his arms around John and turns him to the wall so the force of the gang hits Lucifer full-on. Three of them strike Lucifer with their crowbars at once. He grunts and the boy cries, "Lucifer!" and then looks stunned when Lucifer just grins again and turns to face them, his arms spread to protect John.</p><p class="p2">The gang also look stunned, and it takes them a moment to gather themselves. Lucifer gets in a few punches of his own while they're regrouping, and he laughs as he does -- it's been a long time since he's fought off gay-bashers -- which the gang seem to find even more unsettling than his strength against theirs.</p><p class="p2">John leaps into the fray with a growl, fists flying. He's graceless but scrappy, and not afraid to use his fingernails, teeth, and combat boots as weapons.</p><p class="p2">Four of the gang wrestle Lucifer to the wet, filthy pavement, while the fifth faces John with the golden rope. "Knock him out," he orders them, and one bashes Lucifer's head against the ground.</p><p class="p2">"Lucifer!" John shouts, trying to run toward him, but the leader catches him with the rope that snakes around him as if it has a mind of its own.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer spits out blood. "Try harder!"</p><p class="p2">"Help me muzzle him!" the leader shouts as he struggles with John who fights determinedly against the rope. He's chanting something, too, in a language Lucifer hasn't heard for a few centuries, and that makes the rope start to loosen, enough for John to free his arms.</p><p class="p2">One of the gang rises from holding down Lucifer. He punches John in the face, which stuns John enough that the leader can tie a gag around his mouth. The two of them bind him with the golden rope, which gleams in the rainy light.</p><p class="p2">All the while, Lucifer fights against the three men still holding him down while trying to keep an eye on John. These men aren't just gay bashers, as he first thought -- they want something from John, they know enough to block his defenses, and that rope screams magic. Lucifer suspects there's even more to John than the evening has already suggested.</p><p class="p2">The leader and his helper drag John, limp as a rag doll, down the alley as a van screeches to a halt on the street. "John!" Lucifer shouts and throws the three men off him. One of them tackles him when he starts to run down the alley to keep John out of that van.</p><p class="p2">"Leave the other one," the leader shouts, "leave him bleeding," and one of the men pulls out a vicious switchblade.</p><p class="p2">"Oh, for Dad's sake, I really like this coat," Lucifer says but the man stabs him a few times anyway. He falls to the ground just to stop this nonsense, and the three of them run down the alley and climb into the van. It splashes dirty gutter-water onto the pavement as it roars away.</p><p class="p2">In the sudden quiet, Lucifer stands. He brushes dirty water from his hands. He can feel the chill against his back through the holes in his coat.</p><p class="p2">Under any other circumstances, Lucifer would go home to change clothes, then maybe out for a late supper and a good drink, and to find another friend to bring home.</p><p class="p2">It's what he <em>would</em> do, but this circumstance involves John Constantine. It involves his knowing smile, his clever fingers, his slim hips. It involves his solemn dark eyes.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer will just have to change clothes when he brings John home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Cult</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer loves a touch of drama, even when he's rescuing someone. Especially when he's rescuing someone named John Constantine.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: off-screen violence, blood magic, demon worship.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">Flying in the rain is one of Lucifer's least favorite ways to travel, second only to flying in snow, but he keeps his path below the clouds so he can follow the van. Few mortals are abroad at this time of night and in this weather, and few of them look up as they scurry along beneath their umbrellas or with caps pulled low and collars turned up.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer is not following anything as simple as John's scent. It's more like his pheromones, his aura -- something insubstantial that guides Lucifer on an unwavering path through the city like a ribbon of gold, to a seemingly abandoned warehouse in the docks district along the Thames.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer alights on the building's roof and peers through an unwashed skylight. The scene below makes him scowl. "Satanists," he complains to the city in general, and gets down on one knee so he can observe more closely.</p><p class="p2">Below, a circle of black-robed, torch-bearing worshippers surround an altar. Some wear masks that look like they are made from cows' skulls, decorated with feathers and bits of leather. The floor is painted with symbols in red and black, as are the walls, and there's a statue beyond the circle of their favored demon.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer can usually name whichever demon a particular crop of occultists have chosen as their own; status tend to repeat accepted iconography, unchanged for centuries. This one, though, he doesn't know -- a nude, handsome man with feathery wings, one foot planted on a chain, one hand raising a crown decorated with a sunburst.</p><p class="p2">He dismisses it, though, because tied to the altar with the golden rope he can see John, still gagged, his hands over his head with his palms open. Blood drips from one palm over his fingers. The cloaked figure Lucifer assumes to be the leader pushes his fingers into the cut, and uses the blood to draw symbols on John's face. The followers sway in time to the study beat of the drums played by a trio at the feet of the statue.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer ponders. Would it be better to sneak in and use a few little tricks to rescue John, like throwing his voice around and misdirecting the cultists until they flee into the night in confusion? Or should he crash through the skylight in a pleasingly dramatic fashion, claim John as his and not to be trifled with, and put the fear of the Devil into them?</p><p class="p2">He knows what his siblings would say.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer takes off from the roof. When he's high enough, he aims himself at the skylight; with a mighty beat of his wings, dives straight for it.</p><p class="p2">The ensuing crash is very dramatic, and thoroughly pleasing.</p><p class="p2">Worshippers scatter from the breaking glass, screaming and dropping their torches. The drummers abandons their post. Everyone but the cult leader back against the walls, and the warehouse falls silent except for the rain falling through the broken skylight.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer lands without a sound by the altar and leaves his wings outspread. The breeze they stir when he turns puts out the rest of the torches. "Hello," he tells the leader, which make his followers gasp and huddle together in terror. "You've stolen my friend. I'd like him back, please."</p><p class="p2">"Who are you?" the leader thunders.</p><p class="p2">"Oh, really now," Lucifer says. "Do I need to spell this out?" He smiles at the leader in such a way that the man turn pale. "My name is Lucifer. Morningstar."</p><p class="p2">The entire group fall to their knees. "Master!" some of them cry. Others weep or stare or begin to shake convulsively as if they can't control themselves.</p><p class="p2">"I thought you were blond," the leader says faintly.</p><p class="p2">"That happens a lot." He moves closer to John. The boy's eyes are enormous with panic, and he frantically shakes his head, sobbing through his gagged mouth. Lucifer lays his hand on John's chest, which again makes the crowd gasp or cry out in shock and surprise. He ignores them and whispers to John, "Don't be afraid. I'm going to look after you." He looks up again and demand, "Well? What's taking you so long? Untie him!"</p><p class="p2">"M-m-my Lord," the leader says in a trembling voice. He coughs and tries to speak more steadily. "This man claims to be a magician, a warlock, but he makes a mockery of our ways. He steals knowledge and twists it to make his ridiculous music. He respects nothing, and certainly not you, Master. He laughed at your existence." He bows to Lucifer. "I can think of no more pleasing sacrifice."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer gazes at him steadily, completely neutral, until the other man shifts his weight uncomfortably and coughs again. Lucifer says to John, "Have they hurt you?"</p><p class="p2">John's eyes dart to the leader. He gives a tiny nod.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer pats John's chest. "I'm not surprised he laughed at my existence," he says, loud enough for his voice to carry from one end of the warehouse to the other. "I laugh at my existence all the time. It's hilarious, being the Devil." He takes them all in with his gaze. The cultists are silent, rapt. Lucifer lets his voice grow cold as an Arctic wind. "What I do <em>not</em> find amusing is people like <em>you</em>."</p><p class="p2">The cultists make sounds of dismay and betrayal.</p><p class="p2">"No, he is <em>not</em> pleasing," Lucifer says in his most imposing voice. "I do <em>not</em> require human sacrifices. I do <em>not</em> grant favors to people who sin in my name. And I especially do not like it when my friends are injured by cowardly," he pokes the leader in the chest with his forefinger, "unimaginative, weak, music-hating, <em>evil</em> little scrubs like you!"</p><p class="p2">He yanks on the knot in the golden rope. It comes undone in an instant, and slithers across the floor like a snake to curl at Lucifer's feet. Lucifer scoops it up and tucks it away in his coat's inner pocket.</p><p class="p2">Meantime, the cult murmurs in confusion. "No familiars? No rewards? No treasures?" until one of them cries, "Fraud!" and throws a torch at Lucifer.</p><p class="p2">He bats it off like a housefly, and turns to them, enraged. The cultists cower away from him. "All of you!" he thunders and the cultists fall silent. "I am Lucifer Morningstar! I am the King of Hell and the Devil Himself! Challenge me at your own peril!"</p><p class="p2">None of them step forward. A few of them sob.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer gives a firm nod. "That's what I thought. Go home." None of them move. He orders, "Go home!"</p><p class="p2">First one, then another, then in twos and threes, they remove their masks and cloaks. They're ordinary underneath, just people in street clothes, their expressions vague as they wander out of the warehouse and into the night.</p><p class="p2">Their leader takes off his mask too, but doesn't move. He's ordinary too, with a heavyset face and ruddy skin. "So how'd you do it?" he says in a casual voice. "Are you wearing a wire? Have you got an accomplice on the roof?"</p><p class="p2">"Go home, too, little man," Lucifer says as he helps John sit and undoes the gag. "The grown-ups have business to attend to."</p><p class="p2">"John Constantine gets away with far too much," the leader replies. "Now he's got you -- and who are you? His boyfriend? -- cleaning up his mess for him. I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into. He'll use you up and leave you for the next promising mark." He sneers at John, "The laughing magician. The lying <em>fake</em>."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer rubs John's head and kisses his hair. He murmurs, "I'm sorry they hurt you. I came as fast as I could."</p><p class="p2">John blinks at him. "You -- you came for me. Lucifer."</p><p class="p2">"I did." He holds John by the back of his neck and watches him closely. "Can you move? Did they break any bones?"</p><p class="p2">John shakes his head. "Nothing worse than bruises and this." He shows Lucifer his hand. The bleeding has slowed, and Lucifer takes it and kisses the wound.</p><p class="p2">"Bastards."</p><p class="p2">"Well?" the leader demands. "John Constantine wronged me and I want justice!"</p><p class="p2">Lucifer growls at him, and the man steps back, going pale again. "You know who I am," Lucifer says as he prowls closer to him, and the man stumbles over his feet as he backs away, "and you know what I'm capable of. Only you don't, do you? You can't imagine the true terrors of Hell. No mortal can, though I admit Dante came very close.</p><p class="p2">"So imagine it. Imagine cold. The worst cold. The coldest cold that bites your fingers and your nose and your ears, that freezes your lungs every time you inhale, so cold that it hurts to breathe.</p><p class="p2">"And you'll <em>never be warm again</em>."</p><p class="p2">The man whimpers and immediately begins to shiver.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer helps John to his feet. They'd taken away his combat boots and his Army surplus coat, leaving him in his torn jeans and thin T-shirt. He's shivering too, though Lucifer thinks he has more of a reason.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer takes off his coat and wraps it around John. "Want to get out of here?"</p><p class="p2">"Yes," John says, drawing the coat tighter around himself.</p><p class="p2">"Hang on," Lucifer says, and wraps his arms around him. John puts his arms around Lucifer's neck. Lucifer flaps his wings and lifts John out of the warehouse and into the storm.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In Dante's <i>Inferno</i>, the hell of traitors is a lake of ice. You <i>know</i> I had to play with that a little.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Flat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer warms John up the best way he knows how.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">Lucifer lands lightly on the rear balcony of his house in Chelsea. He sets John on his feet. "We're here. One moment while I unlock the door, and then we'll get you warmed up and some food in you."</p><p class="p2">"I--" John stumbles out of Lucifer's arms and crawls to the other end of the balcony, stopped by a planter. Lucifer winces, expecting John to be airsick, but the boy just curls into himself, still shaking, and rests his cheek on the cool stone of the planter. "Give us a minute," he mutters.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer crouches down beside him, not touching the boy in case he's on the verge of panic. "It's warm inside," he says gently, "and you can sleep in my bed." The wound on John's hand is still seeping blood, which has dripped down John's arm, under the coat sleeve. "I'll bind that wound, too." He closes one eye to peer at his own shirt, but if John bled on him, he can't see it from this angle. Oh well, these clothes were already a lost cause. "This is my house, John. You'll be safe here."</p><p class="p2">"I'm dizzy."</p><p class="p2">"I'm not surprised. You've had an exhausting evening."</p><p class="p2">"We flew."</p><p class="p2">"Yes."</p><p class="p2">"You have wings."</p><p class="p2">"Yes."</p><p class="p2">John mulls that over, then says, "That cult were going to kill me."</p><p class="p2">"Yes."</p><p class="p2">"But you came for me."</p><p class="p2">"Yes, John." He holds John's face in his hands. "I did."</p><p class="p2">Rain dots John's face and drips from his hair. The symbols the cult leader drew have left crimson streaks on his cheeks, his black eyeliner smudged beneath his eyes. He's shivering and pimpled with gooseflesh, legs draw up to his chest. His pale narrow toes are curled against the balcony floor.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer wants to kiss John so much his lips twitch. He strokes John's cheekbones with his thumbs.</p><p class="p2">"Lucifer," John says. "Morningstar."</p><p class="p2">"The one and only."</p><p class="p2">"Are you really the Devil?"</p><p class="p2">Lucifer says gently, "Yes."</p><p class="p2">John searches his face. "Did you bring me here to torture me?"</p><p class="p2">"No, I brought you here to feed you and dry you off, and hopefully we'll shag at some point." Lucifer kisses his forehead. "I'm not going to do a thing to you that you don't want. You're safe in my house. Will you come inside now, please? I'm starting to feel the cold and if I can, you must be freezing."</p><p class="p2">John nods slowly and unfolds himself to stand. Lucifer rises too, and unlocks the French doors that lead to his bedroom with a touch to the doorknob. John's eyebrows rise but he enters the house wordlessly, and then stands still in Lucifer's bedroom, taking it all in with his dark eyes. His gaze lands on the bed and stays there.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer tries to see the room through John's eyes as he takes off his shoes and soaked suit coat. It's the biggest room in the house, and the bed is his biggest piece of furniture: a four-poster bed of polished walnut, with wine-red velvet curtains and matching bedding. The entire room is wine-red and dark walnut brown, from his wardrobes -- multiple wardrobes, he loves clothes -- to his bureau to his reading nook.</p><p class="p2">"Take off your clothes," Lucifer says as he strips off his trousers. "We'll share body heat to warm up."</p><p class="p2">John drags his gaze from the bed, then methodically takes off the borrowed coat, his T-shirt and jeans. Nude, he's pale and slim, cock soft and small from the cold.</p><p class="p2">"Get in," Lucifer says again and guides John to get under the sheets. John's skin is cold to the touch, so Lucifer climbs in too and wraps himself around him. He kisses John's shoulder and rubs his arms. "Just breathe, Johnny. Let yourself get warm."</p><p class="p2">John shivers and breathes, and then whispers, "Will you sing to me?"</p><p class="p2">"Sing to you?" Lucifer repeats. "I don't get asked that very often."</p><p class="p2">"You're a musician, aren't you?"</p><p class="p2">"I am," Lucifer says. "I will. What song shall I sing?"</p><p class="p2">"I don't care. Anything. Something you like."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer pulls the boy closer and wraps him in his limbs. John is still shivering deeply. He kisses John's shoulder and whispers, "All right. This is a song I like."</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>There was a boy</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>A very strange enchanted boy</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>They say he wandered very far, very far</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Over land and sea</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>A little shy and sad of eye</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>But very wise was he</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2">In Lucifer's arms, John exhales slowly. Lucifer strokes his chest.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>And then one day</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>A magic day he passed my way</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>And while we spoke of many things</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Fools and kings</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>This he said to me</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>The greatest thing you'll ever learn</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Is just to love and be loved in return</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2">John works himself to his other side so he can tuck himself against Lucifer's body, his hands cradled together, his thighs against Lucifer's thighs. Lucifer gathers the blankets around him and rubs his back.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>The greatest thing you'll ever learn</em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <em>Is just to love and be loved in return</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p class="p2">"Mm," John says, his words slurring together, "that's nice."</p><p class="p2">"That's an old one," Lucifer says. "I like it a lot."</p><p class="p2">"Sing more," John whisper. "Please."</p><p class="p2">"I'll sing to you," Lucifer says, and casts even further back in his memory for older songs -- centuries old, the languages lost but the sounds soft and soothing.</p><p class="p2">As he sings, Lucifer gently chafes John's fingers until they start to feel warm again and John's shivering is no longer as violent. John's head stays tucked against Lucifer's chest, and once John has calmed somewhat and is no longer so deathly cold, Lucifer can feel curious fingers lightly touching his chest.</p><p class="p2">"There," Lucifer says softly, "you're warmer now." He kisses John's blond hair. "I'm going to get something to tend that wound."</p><p class="p2">John nods, looking at him through those lashes. "Hurry back."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer kisses him again and gets out of bed quickly, to not let any cool air get to the boy, and puts on a dressing gown.</p><p class="p2">"I suppose you find all this opulence wasteful," he says as he ties the belt.</p><p class="p2">"This is the poshest bedroom I've ever been in."</p><p class="p2">"Is that good or bad?"</p><p class="p2">John says with a hint of humor in his voice, "Well, I don't want to <em>leave</em>."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer laughs and bends to kiss John again. "Acceptable answer." He leaves his mouth against the boy's hair to inhale the scent of him -- clean, like the rain, and earthy, human. There's nothing celestial about John Constantine. He's solidly of this world.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer wants nothing else.</p><p class="p2">He finally leaves John for the master bath, and gathers a few of the supplies he's accumulated to treat injuries. When he returns to the bedroom, John has pushed the bedding down, exposing some of his chest to the chilly air. Lucifer pauses at the sight of him -- he's a handsome lad, with that sturdy body and smooth skin, the wisps of golden brown chest hair and tiny hard nipples, and Lucifer has no doubt he knows it.</p><p class="p2">It's working on Lucifer, too. Lucifer willingly admits that.</p><p class="p2">He puts his supplies down on the nightstand and takes off the dressing gown, folding it at the foot of the bed. He gets under the covers again and takes John's injured hand. "This may sting a bit," he warns before he cleans the knife wound with alcohol and a cotton pad.</p><p class="p2">John watches him in silence for a while. His eyes blink slowly, making good use of those dark pretty lashes. "How'd you learn to do this?"</p><p class="p2">"I've been around for millennia," Lucifer replies, brisk. It's the only way he can think of to not be distracted into kissing the boy again. "I've picked up a few things along the way." He glances up with a brief smile. "Like how to tend to a human who needs tending."</p><p class="p2">"Because you've hurt them," John says flatly.</p><p class="p2">"Because we got a little carried away during sex." He stops dabbing and leans closer to John. "I don't torture people."</p><p class="p2">"So you're not here to cause chaos and pain and whatever."</p><p class="p2">"Oh, no. I'm here because I like London and I haven't been here since the Seventies."</p><p class="p2">"I mean, on Earth."</p><p class="p2">"I'm on vacation."</p><p class="p2">"Vacation? From what?"</p><p class="p2">"From Hell, of course." He turns the boy's hand over to clean his knuckles, bruised and scraped from the alley fight. "Give me your other hand and I'll clean that, too."</p><p class="p2">John lays his other hand on the on the sheet. "So you can just leave Hell whenever you want?"</p><p class="p2">"Of course I can. I'm the king of it, after all."</p><p class="p2">"Why? I mean, why leave?"</p><p class="p2">When he's finished bandaging John's hand, Lucifer douses a new cotton pad with rubbing alcohol. "Because," he says as he swabs John's knuckles, "Hell is dreadful. Boring. Infinite corridors that open to millions of people's personal punishments, but never lead anywhere. It's nothing but pain and suffering and despair. There's no pleasure to be had. No <em>fun</em>.</p><p class="p2">"In contrast, Earth is beautiful. It's filled with beautiful, fascinating people, and not a day passes when I don't find something new or something cherished to pass the time. So, every decade or so, I come here to relax for a month or thereabouts. Then I can go back to Hell and rule my kingdom," he says this with a sarcastic twist, "for another decade before I get restless again."</p><p class="p2">John thinks this over. "What kind of people go to Hell?"</p><p class="p2">"Bad people," Lucifer says, "just like you learned in Sunday School. Child molesters, wife-beaters, murderers, tyrants. The usual."</p><p class="p2">"Magicians?" John whispers.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer looks up at him. "I'm sure there are some, but they're not there because they were magicians -- they're there because they were terrible people. Which leads me to <em>my</em> question, John Constantine, now that you've interrogated me."</p><p class="p2">The boy swallows, his gaze on his hands. "What's your question?"</p><p class="p2">"How does a teenaged punk musician from Liverpool--"</p><p class="p2">"I'm twenty."</p><p class="p2">"--young punk musician from Liverpool learn Enochian?"</p><p class="p2">John picks at the bandage Lucifer had wrapped around his hand. "I've been reading the works of John Dee since I was about thirteen."</p><p class="p2">"You study angelology?"</p><p class="p2">"Yeah. And demonology. Necromancy. Astral travel. Control of the elements. Illusions. Manipulation of parallel universes. Spell-casting. Anything I can get my hands on, really."</p><p class="p2">"I see..." Lucifer says. He caps the bottle, John's wounds clean to his satisfaction. "I want to hear more about this, but first, I think we both should sleep."</p><p class="p2">"You sleep?"</p><p class="p2">"I sleep," Lucifer says. "I eat, I get cold, I sweat, I have sex, I read books, I go to movies, I attend parties, I make friends, I sing, I play piano, I go shopping..." He glances around with a smirk. "A lot..."</p><p class="p2">"You live," John says.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer smiles at him. He's never thought of it that way -- he's always thought of himself as just a tourist -- but John has got right to the point of it.</p><p class="p2">"You're right. I live. And now," he climbs under the sheets again, "I sleep. You sleep?"</p><p class="p2">"I sleep," John says with a slight smile, and tucks himself against Lucifer once again.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer turns off the light and holds John close. "We sleep," he murmurs, "we cuddle, we keep each other warm..."</p><p class="p2">"We talk too much," John says sleepily.</p><p class="p2">"We close our mouths." He follows through, breathing slowly.</p><p class="p2">The rain continues. Now that he's not out in it, Lucifer appreciates the sound.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Song: "Nature Boy" by Nat King Cole</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Mixtape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lucifer wakes up alone. Fortunately, it's not for long.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Explicit content.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">Lucifer wakes to the snapping sound of a door closing. It takes him a moment to orient himself -- 2003, October, England, London, Chelsea, the boy, oh, <em>the boy</em> -- and when he opens his eyes he's alone in bed, and the coat he gave to John, as well as a pair of boots from his wardrobe, are gone.</p><p class="p2">He sits up with a sigh. Well, he's disappointed but not very surprised. The boy had a terrible night, even though he slept peacefully enough in Lucifer's arms -- and Lucifer remembers distinctly that they barely parted all night -- and humans have a way of avoiding things that remind them of unpleasantness.</p><p class="p2">Still, he would have liked to have sex with John at least once. Just for the experience.</p><p class="p2">And on top of it all, it's still raining.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer gets out of bed and showers, dresses for a day at home, and ambles out into the main part of the flat. In contrast to his dark, dramatic bedroom, the lounge is white with touches of red and black -- white floors and white rugs, white sofas, a white grand piano with a bouquet of red roses. The room flows to the kitchen, which is white with silver appliances, and dark bottles of wine in the white wine cabinet.</p><p class="p2">The automated coffee machine is already brewing its first pot. Lucifer opens the piano and sits to play while the coffee finishes brewing, and tries to think of what he's going to do with himself today. He could read. He could learn some new songs. He could... ugh. Watch <em>telly</em>.</p><p class="p2">Frustrated, Lucifer slams his hands on the keyboard. He wants a lover and he wants one <em>now</em>, and he doesn't want just anyone.</p><p class="p2">He wants John Constantine.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer leaves the piano, puts a record on his record player, and gets a joint from his stash. If he can't get laid, he'll get high. Even though it only last a few seconds, it'll still help pass the time.</p><p class="p2">A joint, two cups of coffee and a piece of toast, and the entirety of <em>The Velvet Underground and Nico</em> later, Lucifer lies on the couch with his arm over his eyes when he hears the lock of the front door click. He sits up quickly, in time to see John walk in with a guitar case on his back and the borrowed coat and shoes in the crook of his arm. He pauses at the sight of Lucifer.</p><p class="p2">"Hello, John," Lucifer says. He suddenly feels much better. "How was your morning?"</p><p class="p2">"I got my shoes and jacket back. Thanks for letting me borrow these." John places the folded coat and shoes on one of the armchairs. "Got my guitar, too. I thought ... well, I wanted it. How as your morning?" He shrugs off his guitar case and jacket as he smirks at Lucifer. "Did you get bored?"</p><p class="p2">"Bored <em>and</em> horny." Lucifer pouts. "And you weren't here."</p><p class="p2">"I'm sorry," John says contritely and sits on the couch with him. "I hoped I'd get back before you woke up, but then I had an idea I wanted to do, and my flatmates were demanding that I tell them where I'd been, and it was all a bit mad."</p><p class="p2">"Tell me all about it later," Lucifer says, "but first, kiss me, please. I've missed you terribly."</p><p class="p2">John smiles. It's a genuine smile, not a smirk, and it makes Lucifer wrap his arms around John's neck and place a kiss on his lips. John's still smiling as they kiss, and his lips part at the touch of Lucifer's tongue. He pushes Lucifer back against the sofa arm as they kiss, and his legs kick in the air like an ingenue in a film, getting her first kiss.</p><p class="p2">"I love that you missed me," he whispers after they've kissed for a while. "I missed you too. I was nervous about coming back but I wanted you so much I had to, even if you were angry with me."</p><p class="p2">"I wouldn't be angry. I'm glad. I wanted you too. I want you so much."</p><p class="p2">John's hands slide down Lucifer's chest. "Can I take this off? I want to touch you. Let me take the off."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer raises his arms over his head. "Take it off me."</p><p class="p2">John tugs Lucifer's jumper over his head and unbuttons the shirt underneath. He runs his hands over Lucifer's chest, beneath the open shirt. "You're so fit," he whispers in an admiring tone, and kisses Lucifer's chest. Lucifer leaves his hands over his head until he can't stand not touching John anymore, and then he shoves his hands into John's hair, which he finds is still damp from walking in the rain.</p><p class="p2">He's going to hate himself, but -- "Your hair's wet."</p><p class="p2">John looks up at him, smirking. "You're not still worried about me, are you?"</p><p class="p2">"Yes. Shut up," he adds when John laughs, but he forgives John instantly when he gets thoroughly kissed.</p><p class="p2">"I don't care if you're the actual Devil," John says, "you're so sweet I could eat you up."</p><p class="p2">"Wish you would," Lucifer replies, and John's hands immediately go to the buttons of his jeans.</p><p class="p2">"I've never given a blowjob," he says conversationally, "but I've been given plenty, so I figure I must have some idea of how to do it, yeah?"</p><p class="p2">"I'll let you know if it's no good," Lucifer says, "but I'll tell you something -- even the worst blowjob is better than no blowjob at all."</p><p class="p2">"My philosophy, exactly," says John as he tugs Lucifer's jeans down his hips. He kisses Lucifer's stomach, then looks up at him. "I made you something, while I was at my flat. It's part of why I was gone so long."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer can't help but beam at him. "You <em>made</em> me something? People never make me things. What is it?"</p><p class="p2">John goes to his jacket, and from one the pockets he pulls out a cassette. "I made you a mix tape," he says as he gives it to Lucifer. "I made you a couple, in fact. Songs I like, songs you've missed from the last thirty years that I think you should know, and songs that I -- well, this one is songs that are good for having sex to."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer takes the tape and reads the handwritten track list. He doesn't recognize any of these songs, but he knows he'll love it anyway. John made this for him, for <em>them</em>, and no one's made him anything without being paid for it since -- he can't remember.</p><p class="p2">But this is gift, one musician to another. They've known each other less than 24 hours but John already has songs that make him think of Lucifer.</p><p class="p2">"Gazza and Beano said I should make you a CD," John is saying, "but I hate CDs. This is going to sound as pretentious as hell, but CDs ignore the texture of music, yeah? There's no warmth to them. Not like vinyl, or even tape. So it doesn't have as many songs as a CD would, but it'll sound better."</p><p class="p2">"You sound like jazz musicians I've known," Lucifer says. "They talk about the space between notes being the important bit."</p><p class="p2">"I've heard that, too."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer holds John's face and plants a kiss on his mouth. "I love it. Put this in the stereo," he says, giving the tape to John, "and we'll see where it takes us."</p><p class="p2">John kisses him, and rises to start the tape. Lucifer makes himself comfortable on the sofa, curbing his impatience to have John's weight on him again. When John comes back to him, Lucifer takes hold of his hips and tugs the boy onto him, so that he's resting on Lucifer's lap. John smiles again, sweet and genuine, as soft rhythmic bass fills the flat. He puts his arms around Lucifer's neck and kisses him -- tenderly, soft and sweet, hard and deep, exploring his mouth and trying out different ways to kiss him.</p><p class="p2">As eager as Lucifer is to get his hands on the boy's body, to feel those wiry muscles, to explore him with his mouth and breathe all over his skin, he also wants these kisses to never end. John kisses like it's his favorite thing, and Lucifer loves every second of it. He shoves his hands into the boy's hair and returns every kiss, his lips open, his moans in harmony with John's.</p><p class="p2">John pulls back with a sheepish look to wipe saliva from his chin, and Lucifer kisses his mouth for that look.</p><p class="p2">He places both hands on John's face. His gaze bores into John's, and the boy's eyes meet his, dark and steady. "Tell me when you need me to stop," Lucifer says, his voice rough, and John shivers so hard it makes Lucifer tremble along with him.</p><p class="p2">"I won't want you to stop."</p><p class="p2">"Sex is no fun unless both of us are having a good time. I mean it, John, if I start doing something you don't want to do, say so."</p><p class="p2">John searches Lucifer's face, then nods. "I will." He grasps Lucifer's face and kisses him, hard enough to make Lucifer feel weak in the knees.</p><p class="p2">He can't remember the last time he felt weak in the knees.</p><p class="p2">"I was in the middle of something," John says, kissing Lucifer's neck, "before I got distracted -- oh, yes." His hand lands on Lucifer's flies, and Lucifer inhales sharply at the pressure even that slight touch brings. "I was right about here."</p><p class="p2">"Do carry on, then," Lucifer says and lets his head fall back, his eyes closed. John kisses his mouth, and then focuses on getting Lucifer's jeans unbuttoned and worked down his hips. He kisses Lucifer's stomach as Lucifer rakes his fingers through John's hair.</p><p class="p2">John slides off the sofa to kneel between Lucifer's legs. His hands shake as he takes hold of Lucifer's cock, and he sticks out his tongue to lap at the head.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer moans, his hand tightening its grip on John's hair. "That's it, John," he breathes. "That's good."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer's body is completely pliant, his legs sprawled open, as he watches John through his lashes. John raises his eyes to meet Lucifer's gaze, and he keeps their gazes joined as he runs his tongue down the length of Lucifer's cock.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer gasps and his legs jerk, and John keeps bathing Lucifer's cock with his tongue until Lucifer's head is thumping against the back of the sofa, gasping John's name.</p><p class="p2">He has to press his hands to his eyes when John closes his lips around the head. John doesn't take him deep -- Lucifer doesn't blame him, it's a lot of cock for a first time -- but he strokes the shaft with tight fingers, lubricated with his saliva, and sucks on the head until Lucifer arches and groans and releases into the boy's mouth.</p><p class="p2">John swallows, much to Lucifer's surprise, and looks absolutely transported as he does. He lifts his mouth and looks up at Lucifer.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer quietly laughs, mellow and satisfied. "Mm, John. That was not bad for a beginner."</p><p class="p2">"But it was still bad," John says, disappointed.</p><p class="p2">"Come here." Lucifer tugs him up onto his lap again, and kisses him.</p><p class="p2">John pulls away. "My mouth must taste terrible."</p><p class="p2">"Hush. I can handle the taste of my own jizz." He kisses John again, and John sighs and relaxes into him. "That was very good for a first time. You've got a few things to learn, but overall I've no complaints."</p><p class="p2">"Well," John murmurs, "that's good, I suppose."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer smiles even though John can't see it, curled into him the way he is, and says, "So the next question is, beautiful boy, what do you want to do next?"</p><p class="p2">John press himself against Lucifer, chest to thigh, arms around Lucifer's neck, their lips a mere breath apart. "Fuck me, Lucifer."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer stands, holding John with one arm, and he yanks up his jeans with this other. John laughs, wrapping his legs around Lucifer's waist, and kisses Lucifer as Lucifer bears him back to the bedroom, letting go only when Lucifer lowers him to the bed.</p><p class="p2">Music is still playing from the lounge, a grinding sort of guitar now, and John pushes his body up to meet Lucifer's as once again they kiss, mouths open, hands everywhere, clothes tugged and pushed and yanked away.</p><p class="p2">John's body is wiry with muscles, tattoos down his ribcage, his skin faintly smelling of cigarette smoke and more strongly of rain, more golden-brown hair on his legs and between his thighs. His dark eyes meet Lucifer's fearlessly, and his lips smile faintly, and he caresses Lucifer's hair so gently that Lucifer shivers.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer touches him. Hand over hand, slowly. He rakes his fingers through John's hair. He strokes his palms over John's throat, his back, his legs. Arms, thighs. His feet, his hands.</p><p class="p2">He touches John until the boy is quietly moaning with each new touch. He touches John until the boy opens his legs and begs, "Please, Lucifer. More. Give me more of you."</p><p class="p2">He bends low over John, and whispers, "I'm going to fuck you, if that's what you truly desire."</p><p class="p2">"Yes. Yes. That's what I truly desire. Yes." Those dark eyes are even darker, pupils fully blown. His lips are bitten and red, and he lifts his head to brush them over Lucifer's, inviting more kisses.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer chuckles and kisses him fleetingly. "All in good time." He lifts the boy and settles him against the pillows piled at the headboard. He holds John's face and kisses him, and then slides down his body and between his parted thighs.</p><p class="p2">John's cock is prettier than Lucifer expected, flushed pink, hard and straight, nestled in dark blond curls. Lucifer runs his cheek up the length, and smiles at John's responding gasp. John clenches his hands and Lucifer whispers, with a nuzzle to his low belly, "Touch me, Johnny. It's all right. I want you to."</p><p class="p2">The boy's hands immediately sink into Lucifer's hair, and he tugs Lucifer's head to his cock. "Please. I can't bear it. Suck me off, something, anything. Please. Please."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer meets John's eyes, and deliberately licks his lower lip. "Anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac."</p><p class="p2">He's not entirely without empathy, though. He's also trembling with need, badly enough that he has to grasp John's cock and guide it between his lips.</p><p class="p2">John presses the heels of his hands into his eyes as he groans. Lucifer shuts his eyes too, moaning in his throat at the earthy taste, the clean-water scent of him.</p><p class="p2">He wants to do this again, Lucifer realizes as he takes John's cock deeper. He wants to service the boy until he's driven John into a frenzy. He wants to push him into a dark corner of a bright place and take him where anyone might see. He wants to tease him throughout the day without a single touch, and let the boy have his way at night.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer rarely wants to sleep with a partner more than once, but there's something about John Constantine -- Lucifer doesn't know if it's his body or his eagerness or his trust, or if it's because he had such a terrible night but still kisses Lucifer as if nothing else matters.</p><p class="p2">It's hard to parse, particularly when John's cock is twitching against his lips, close to coming, and Lucifer can already taste the liquid gathering at the tip on his tongue. He pulls on the boy's hips, encouraging him to fuck his mouth, take what he wants. The boy obeys him, and cries out hoarsely as he releases into Lucifer's throat.</p><p class="p2">It makes Lucifer moan, the force of John's orgasm, and he'd come again himself if he weren't so focused on John.</p><p class="p2">When the boy is spent, Lucifer kneels up. He wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "Ready for more?"</p><p class="p2">"Ready." John grabs him by the hips and gives him a tug. "Closer."</p><p class="p2">"Yes, John." He can't keep the amusement out of his voice, but still walks on his knees so that he can settle in the cradle of John's lap. He gasps when John wraps a hand around his cock.</p><p class="p2">"I want this. Stop making me wait."</p><p class="p2">"I'll come again if you keep doing that," Lucifer replies. He grasps the top of the headboard and dips his head to kiss John's mouth. John groans -- frustration and need at once -- and releases Lucifer's cock so he can hold Lucifer's face instead.</p><p class="p2">He whispers, "Say you'll fuck me, Lucifer. Please. I want you to. Please."</p><p class="p2">"I'm going to fuck you." How could he not, when the boy wants it so badly, when Lucifer himself wants nothing but to sink into that eager body? Putting it off any longer is just punishment for the both of them, and why punish someone who deserves none?</p><p class="p2">Lucifer has John lie on his stomach, his hips propped on a pillow. He makes them both slick with lubricant, and tells John, "If it hurts too much, tell me. I'll stop."</p><p class="p2">"Yes, Lucifer."</p><p class="p2">He scrubs his hand through John's hair again. So trusting. It makes Lucifer want to take care of John even more. He wants to keep that trust.</p><p class="p2">He holds John by his hips, and pushes into him carefully. The boy's breath catches and he arches, but his only words are a soft, "Luce--" so Lucifer keeps going until his balls press against John's ass and he's completely enveloped in John's heat.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer has to pause and catch his breath. No human should feel this good. John is just a boy, an ordinary mortal boy, but his body feels like paradise -- and Lucifer would know, he remembers it down to the finest detail -- and Lucifer could stay buried in him until the end of time.</p><p class="p2">Only a moment passes and Lucifer begins to thrust as the boy writhes and moans and gasps for breath, but never says stop, never even hints at it. He reaches back to give Lucifer's hair a tug, so Lucifer kisses him over his shoulder.</p><p class="p2">"Wait, stop," John breathes, and Lucifer stops his hips with gritted teeth. He promised, after all.</p><p class="p2">"Something wrong? Did I hurt you?"</p><p class="p2">John shakes his head and moves onto his back. "Like this. Please." He hooks his legs over Lucifer's hips, and loops his arms around Lucifer's neck. He pulls Lucifer close again and kisses the tip of Lucifer's nose.</p><p class="p2">"This may be more uncomfortable for you," Lucifer warns him.</p><p class="p2">"Don't care. Kiss me."</p><p class="p2">"So demanding," Lucifer says but prepares him with more lube, and once more pushes into him. John's eyes roll back into his head and he catches his lower lip in his teeth, but parts them when Lucifer kisses him.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer is wrapped in his arms and legs, stroked by his hands and even his toes, and kissed by his eager, open lips. If he were human, Lucifer thinks, he'd be delirious from kisses like this, from the boy's strong body meeting his, from the cries and moans the boy wrings from him and that he wrings from the boy.</p><p class="p2">Strangely enough, Lucifer feels neither delirious nor driving out of his mind. He feels utterly clear, like he's walking in a forest after the heavy rains have passed with the dawn, and the misty morning is bright and clean-smelling, sunshine glinting off wet leaves, fresh air in his lungs.</p><p class="p2">That's what the boy does to him. John Constantine makes Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell and the Devil Himself, billions of years old and having experienced everything twice if not more, feel like the world is new.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4D3fyGuQTjExh7M32GcJKf?si=rit9tpY2SMCHP4_w8USv8g">I made you a mixtape #1</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5v8oGdtlo3TkgGbrENahLk?si=xrSPTKPkRC6POQ_R5hunzw">I made you a mixtape #2</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/58aHDm2Gz9PdsxfSn0o7xN?si=ZM0GZbLgSHuYtyaXCwFe_A">I made you a mixtape #3</a>
</p><p> </p><p>Trying to keep my song selections to just an hour is one of the most disciplined things I've done lately. Really takes me back to my high school days.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Bed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>John is young but mortal.</p>
<p>Lucifer is neither of these things.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you've read <em>The Vintner's Luck</em> by Elizabeth Knox, you may recognize my inspiration.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <b>6 - The Bed</b>
</p>
<p class="p2">John is young but mortal, and Lucifer is a ten-times-a-day kind of guy. He doesn't think John will be able to keep up with him, but he tries, the sweet lad.</p>
<p class="p2">And Lucifer, who has had sex in every way mankind has invented and a few he invented himself, finds himself capable of surprise.</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p2">Under the mound of blankets, John and Lucifer lie on their sides, facing each other, knees and feet touching.</p>
<p class="p2">"My mum died giving birth to me." John's voice is soft. "My dad never got over it. I was basically raised by my sister, but she was just a kid herself. She married young, I think mostly to get out of the house.</p>
<p class="p2">"I figured out, when I was eight or nine, how different my life would be if I had a mum like my friends. I started looking for ways to bring her back. That's how I discovered necromancy."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer nods, not interrupting. He asked, after all.</p>
<p class="p2">"One of the first things I learned about necromancy was that I couldn't just bring my mum back to life and expect everything to be like she'd been there all along. I started learning other types of magic to explore every possibility, like. There's more to learn. I'll read a grimoire and it refers to a pamphlet which refers to a spell book which refers to a witch-hunter's guide, and on it goes. Gazza and I started the band to pull birds, but the money has helped me study magic, too."</p>
<p class="p2">"How did you get involved with the cult?"</p>
<p class="p2">John huddles closer to Lucifer, and Lucifer pulls the blankets tighter around him. "The leader is a bloke called McClellan. I'd heard he was a good warlock, so I wanted to learn from him. But the first time I met him I saw he was just smoke and mirrors, you know, he'd got lucky with some talismans but didn't know anything about <em>real</em> magic. He had nothing but that statue and some illusions, and that was enough to fool a few hundred people into giving him money and calling him their savior."</p>
<p class="p2">"Who is that statue supposed to be?"</p>
<p class="p2">"A fallen angel called Samael. He's supposed to be--"</p>
<p class="p2">"I know who he is." Lucifer manages to keep his voice and expression calm. "Samael was my name before I rebelled."</p>
<p class="p2">John looks genuinely surprised. "Really? Why'd you change it?"</p>
<p class="p2">"I didn't. My Father did." He shrugs dismissively. "I'll tell you about it later. Go on."</p>
<p class="p2">"Their story was Samael was one of the angels who fell with Lucifer -- with you. That must be why they called you 'Master.' They weren't Devil worshippers, exactly -- like, they weren't Church of Satan types, but also not 'Do as thou wilt is the whole of the law' types either. McClellan told his followers the statue was from ancient Mesopotamia but I found the sculptor's mark. It was made in Paris in the Seventies."</p>
<p class="p2">"I imagine he wasn't too pleased to hear you discovered that."</p>
<p class="p2">"No, he was not."</p>
<p class="p2">"Had he done a human sacrifice before?"</p>
<p class="p2">John shakes his head. "No, never. When they took me I thought maybe they'd beat me up, shave my head, or at most break my fingers -- McClellan was always pretty angry about me using references to magic in my songs, and he'd like the symbolism -- so tying me to an altar and drawing blood from my hands with an actually dangerous knife was a bit of a surprise."</p>
<p class="p2">"You use your voice to cast spells," Lucifer says. "They knew how to take your power away."</p>
<p class="p2">"They'd seen me do magic before," says John. "They'd seen me perform, they'd seen me denounce McClellan. I managed to convince about half of his congregation that he was a fake because I could do the same tricks he did, only better."</p>
<p class="p2">"I still have so many questions," Lucifer says. "You use magic when you perform?"</p>
<p class="p2">"Just a little," John says, and when Lucifer looks at him patiently he protests, "To help my voice sound better."</p>
<p class="p2">"Sing to me," Lucifer commands. "No magic. I want to hear how you really sound."</p>
<p class="p2">"Oh, all right." He hops out of bed and hurries back with his guitar. "What do you want to hear?" he asks as he bounces onto the bed.</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer lies against the pillows, his arm behind his head. "The one you sang to me before, the good feelings one."</p>
<p class="p2">"Liked that one, did you?"</p>
<p class="p2">"I did. I do. Sing!"</p>
<p class="p2">John beams at him and tunes his guitar. Lucifer watches John through his lashes as John begins to play, and his breathing slows when John sings.</p>
<p class="p2">A layperson might not notice it, but Lucifer does -- John's voice is the same now as it was in the club when he sang this song, at once gravelly and melodic, and sweeter than one would think at first listen.</p>
<p class="p2">"John," Lucifer says, and John stops singing but keeps strumming. "You change your voice for the angry songs."</p>
<p class="p2">"Yeah," John admits. "I sound like a choirboy otherwise."</p>
<p class="p2">"A choirboy with a two-pack-a-day habit."</p>
<p class="p2">John just laughs. "Imagine how I'll sound in ten years, yeah? I'll give Tom Waits a run for his money."</p>
<p class="p2">"Who's Tom Waits?"</p>
<p class="p2">John rolls his eyes. "I need to make you another tape, I see."</p>
<p class="p2">"Please do," Lucifer says. "Do you think you'll still want to be a musician in ten years?"</p>
<p class="p2">John looks down at his fingers as they move from chord to chord. "Maybe."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer has thoughts about that, but he only says, "Sorry, I interrupted you. Please carry on. I like hearing you sing."</p>
<p class="p2">"Any other requests? I'm glad you like this song, but there must be others."</p>
<p class="p2">"I doubt you'd know them."</p>
<p class="p2">John looks affronted. "Try me, Morningstar."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer raises his eyebrows, smiling. "I love a challenge. I shall try you indeed, Constantine... sing me 'Be My Baby.'"</p>
<p class="p2">With a mischievous grin, John starts strumming a different set of chords. "'The night we met I knew I needed you so,'" he sings. "'And if I had the chance I'd never let you go. So won't you say you love me and that you're so proud of me, we'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go, so won't you please be my, be my baby...'"</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer lies on his side and closes his eyes. It's the voice that gets to him; it's not the voice of an angel -- Lucifer has too many bad memories to be a fan of angelic voices -- but it is as warming as whiskey, comforting as gentle fingers scratching your back.</p>
<p class="p2">"Didn't think I knew that one, did you?" John says when he's finished the song.</p>
<p class="p2">"I didn't," Lucifer admits. He gets on his hands and knees and kisses John over the guitar. "I'm delighted that you do. I want you to sing to me more."</p>
<p class="p2">John kisses him back, holding his face, and keeps hold of it as he whispers, "I'll sing to you. I want you to sing to me."</p>
<p class="p2">"I'll sing to you," Lucifer whispers in reply, and moves the guitar out of his way. "But first, kiss me. Kiss me, John, kiss me."</p>
<p class="p2">John kisses him more, still holding Lucifer's face. He kisses like there's nothing he likes to do more. He kisses tender and deep, and makes soft moans as the kiss grows more intense. John kisses like he loves nothing more than to kiss. He throws his entire being into it, hands, legs, fingers, chest.</p>
<p class="p2">And when he pulls away, breathing hard, Lucifer's head cradled on his arm, John looks into Lucifer eyes and caresses his face, and gives him such a genuine smile that Lucifer has to kiss him again.</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p2">"How long can you hold me up, d'you think?" John says in an innocent tone, which is enough for Lucifer to pick him up and slam him against the wall. John makes a startled sound but his legs go around Lucifer's waist without hesitation, and his fingers sinks into Lucifer's hair as they kiss.</p>
<p class="p2">"How long do you want to be held up?" Lucifer growls.</p>
<p class="p2">"Until you can't hold me up anymore," John breathes. His eyes go wide when Lucifer spits on his fingers, then he pushes himself higher against the wall, using his legs to lever himself up. He grunts when Lucifer makes him slick with saliva, and kisses him again, hard, arms around his neck.</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer holds him up until John is whimpering, "Luce, I can't, I can't anymore, too much." He lays John gently on the bed and bathes his poor hole with his tongue and a washcloth soaked in cold water.</p>
<p class="p2">John falls asleep on Lucifer's shoulder. Lucifer keeps an arm around him and dozes with him.</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p2">He wakes to John watching him sleep. He's lying on Lucifer, his chin on his interwoven fingers, just watching. He smiles, and Lucifer smiles back and runs his fingers through John's hair.</p>
<p class="p2">John crawls up his body and kisses his mouth, and then lays himself down, treating Lucifer like his personal mattress. He rests his head on Lucifer's chest.</p>
<p class="p2">"You're so warm. You're like a furnace."</p>
<p class="p2">"It's the celestial metabolism."</p>
<p class="p2">John huffs. "Of course it is." He falls asleep between one breath and the next.</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer had planned to get up and make some food, but he'd no sooner disturb John when he's sleeping than he would ... well, there aren't many things he wouldn't do. But he won't disturb John.</p>
<p class="p2">He strokes John's hair and hums a lullaby, and soon goes back to sleep.</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p2">John sings to him, soft, his voice hoarse from moans. He combs his fingers through Lucifer's hair and sings "Be My Baby" soft and slow, as if he doesn't know Lucifer is awake.</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer doesn't stir, to see how long John will sing to him. It's so <em>nice</em> to be sung to. Lucifer rarely gets sung to -- he's usually the one doing the singing.</p>
<p class="p2">Eventually John stops, and places a kiss on the back of Lucifer's neck. Silently, Lucifer turns to him and kisses him back.</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p2">"I don't have any actual <em>meal</em> kinds of food," Lucifer says as he brings two plates to bed. "I have snacks. I have fruit. I have crisps and breadsticks. I have caviar, but that requires blini and sour cream to eat properly, and I'm out of sour cream and don't have anything to make blini."</p>
<p class="p2">"Do you have beans?" John asks as he sits up. "I could make beans and toast, assuming you have bread."</p>
<p class="p2">"I do not have beans or bread." He gives John the plates so he can get back into bed without spilling. "I should. Beans and toast is practically England's national dish."</p>
<p class="p2">"I don't mind. A bloke gets tired of beans and toast." He gives Lucifer a plate. "This looks delicious, even if it's not an actual meal."</p>
<p class="p2">"We both need to keep our strength up." Lucifer spreads some cheese on a crostini and tops it with a piece of prosciutto.</p>
<p class="p2">"Oh?" John bites into a strawberry. "You intend to keep doing debauched things to me?"</p>
<p class="p2">"Yes," Lucifer says. "Unless you're too tired and sore."</p>
<p class="p2">John shakes his head. "I'm not tired. I don't know if my arse can take much more today, though."</p>
<p class="p2">"There are a lot of other things we can do that don't involve your arse."</p>
<p class="p2">John selects a plum. It's so ripe that when he bites into it, juice runs down his arm, which he licks up slowly, his gaze on Lucifer. Lucifer has to swallow, hard. "Yeah," John murmurs, "I think we can find some other things to do."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer doesn't even look at what he eats next, he's so busy watching John. "How long can you stay?" he says. "Serious question."</p>
<p class="p2">"Serious answer: as long as you want me to," John says, leaning on his elbow. "There's nothing more important I should do than to be with you."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer kisses him. He can't help it, not when John gives him an answer like that. "Stay until the rain stops," he whispers, nudging John's sticky lips.</p>
<p class="p2">He can hear the smile in John's voice. "That could be days."</p>
<p class="p2">"Then stay for days."</p>
<p class="p2">John kisses him. "All right, I will."</p>
<p class="p2">"Eat your food," Lucifer says, nodding to the plate with his chin. "You need the nourishment."</p>
<p class="p2">Still smiling, John has another bite from his plum.</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p2">He moves inside John languidly. They're sitting up, John in his lap, arms around each other, gazes locked. John's legs are loose around his waist. He cradles the back of John's head in his palm. He kisses the gasps from John's lips.</p>
<p class="p2">He's had John a few times now and he's still not bored. It just feels so <em>good</em> to be surrounded by John's body, to make his eyes roll back with pleasure, to hear his cry of "Luce, Lucifer," as he comes and still tightens his legs around Lucifer as he moans, "Don't stop, don't stop."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer can't explain it. It's not the best sex Lucifer has ever had, but somehow... it is.</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p2">The air is thick with the scent of sex, so Lucifer gets up to prop open the French doors just enough to let in the cool rainy air, and then scurries back to bed. He dives under the blankets -- four or five now, it's chilly even without the open door -- and John wraps himself around him and kisses him.</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer rests against John's chest and purrs with pleasure as John strokes his back and hair. He doesn't even open his eyes when John says, "There's more I need to tell you."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer says sleepily, "No, I didn't invent rock 'n' roll. Can't take credit for that."</p>
<p class="p2">John chuckles in his chest. "I wasn't going to ask that, but it's good to know. No, there's more about the cult."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer opens his eyes. "All right. Tell me."</p>
<p class="p2">"Easier to show you." He takes one arm from under their blanket fortress and positions his fingers. He draws a circle in the air while he recites an incantation that makes Lucifer raise his eyebrows, and the edges of the circle glows with golden sparks. When the circle is complete, John reaches into the circle and brings out a book.</p>
<p class="p2">"Pocket dimension," John explains. "I keep my most important things here, so they're always with me. This," he runs his hands over the leather cover, "is a spell book that McClellan somehow got ahold of. I took it. I took a few other things, too, but this is the one he was willing to kill me over."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer takes the book. It's thick and heavy, with pages made both from vellum and handmade paper, some written with ink faded to sepia and some written with ink that's still vibrant reds and greens, jewel-like blue, and vivid black, decorated with sparkling gold. Lucifer counts three different languages as he looks through the pages.</p>
<p class="p2">"I've heard of this one," he says, closing it. "It's said to have belonged to Leonardo da Vinci."</p>
<p class="p2">"The marginalia is in mirror writing," John says. "I believe it. McClellan asked me to translate it, which is when I first realized what a fake he is. He'd have it open during ceremonies and act like he was reading from it, but he doesn't even know ancient Greek."</p>
<p class="p2">"And you do?"</p>
<p class="p2">"I'm good at languages," John says. "Yeah, I do. Latin too, classical and medieval. Italian, French. You know."</p>
<p class="p2">"And Enochian."</p>
<p class="p2">"And Enochian." He looks at Lucifer keenly. "Is it really the language of the angels?"</p>
<p class="p2">"It's..." Lucifer sighs. "It's a mortal's understanding of the language of the angels. Angels speak all languages, that have been, are, or will be. So there's not really an angelic language -- when we're speaking to each other, we just ... speak."</p>
<p class="p2">"You have sex in English."</p>
<p class="p2">"Because I'm with an Englishman."</p>
<p class="p2">"You sound English." He pauses, then says, "You sound like someone who's trying to sound English."</p>
<p class="p2">"I beg your pardon," Lucifer says. "I've been speaking English since before the Norman Invasion. I can read <em>Beowulf</em> in the original, if I wanted to read <em>Beowulf</em>, which I don't because who wants to read <em>Beowulf</em>?"</p>
<p class="p2">John is smirking at him. "So if you weren't with me, you'd have sex in Old English?"</p>
<p class="p2">"I might," Lucifer says. "I certainly did when I had sex with Saxons, and I have <em>stories</em>. Nobody has sex like warriors have sex. But! Back to the point. This book belongs to McClellan, but is now in your possession."</p>
<p class="p2">"I stole it," John says frankly. "He wants it back. But if he kills me he'll never find it, which is what I told him right before he cut my hand."</p>
<p class="p2">"Why would he want it if he can't read it?"</p>
<p class="p2">"He must think he'll learn how." He strokes the leather cover with his thumb. "Or it's the principle of the thing. I took something from him, which he can't handle, and he'll do anything to get it back. But he can't kill me until he has it. So it's insurance of sorts, too."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer watches him a moment, then says, "You're a bit devious, John Constantine. I didn't expect that."</p>
<p class="p2">"I've had to do some things to survive." He puts the book back into his pocket dimension, and recites the same spell in reverse to close it. "How long will that spell you put him under last?"</p>
<p class="p2">"It depends on how strong his will is," Lucifer says. "He'll shake it off eventually. Before that, you need to be someplace safe."</p>
<p class="p2">"I have some mates I could stay with."</p>
<p class="p2">"I think you need to get out of London entirely."</p>
<p class="p2">John frowns, disappointed. "I could go back to Liverpool for a while."</p>
<p class="p2">"Farther than that. He'll know to look for you there."</p>
<p class="p2">"I could go on holiday to Scotland."</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer imagines John in a kilt, and has to shake his head to dispel the image. "I think there needs to be an ocean between him and you, at the very least."</p>
<p class="p2">"I can't just pick up and move to Africa or something," John says. "I have friends, I have my band--"</p>
<p class="p2">"John," Lucifer says seriously, "this is life or death. McClellan wants you dead. You're safe with me, but I can't always be with you."</p>
<p class="p2">John starts to speak, then closes his mouth and nods. "You have to go back to Hell." His tone is resigned and quietly sad.</p>
<p class="p2">It only makes Lucifer want to be more tender with him. Lucifer wraps an around him from behind and kisses his shoulder. "I do, but not yet."</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p2">John is young but mortal, and so must eat and sleep. Lucifer feeds him what he has, tires him out with orgasms, and watches him sleep after.</p>
<p class="p2">As he sleeps, Lucifer touches John's face. Runs his finger lightly over the sharp cheekbone, the rounded cheek. Brushes the eyelashes with his thumb. Traces the lips, the jawline. Smoothes his eyebrows. Wonders what he's dreaming as his eyes dart back and forth behind his eyelids.</p>
<p class="p2">Everything about John makes Lucifer want to coddle and care for him. That feeling alone is unsettling. When was the last time he wanted more from a human than a service, a fuck, or a moment of entertainment?</p>
<p class="p2">Never, that's when.</p>
<p class="p2">Lucifer lays his head on John's chest. He can hear John's heart beating, and can feel the rise and fall of his lungs. Blood rushes through his veins. As strong as his body is, he still has breakable bones, wrapped in fragile skin.</p>
<p class="p2">John is young but mortal, which means someday he'll be old and Lucifer will stay the same. Someday he will die -- and hopefully go to the Silver City because Lucifer wouldn't wish Hell on anyone no matter how much he desires their company -- and Lucifer will never see him again.</p>
<p class="p2">A human life is a blink of an eye, compared to eternity. John wasn't even alive the last time Lucifer came to Earth.</p>
<p class="p2">He shouldn't get attached. He knows he shouldn't get attached. It's like falling in love with a snowflake, becoming attached to a mortal.</p>
<p class="p2">But he's so happy to hear the rain beat against the windows and French doors, because it means John will stay a little bit longer. The snowflake won't melt today.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Song:<br/>"Be My Baby" by the Ronettes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The rain had to stop eventually.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Why seven chapters? Because I like sevens.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">John is spooning him.</p><p class="p2">Arms around Lucifer, hands resting on Lucifer's chest, a knee between Lucifer's legs. His cock nestles between Lucifer's cheeks. His breath stirs the hairs at the back of Lucifer's neck. His lips brush Lucifer's skin.</p><p class="p2">It's adorable. It feels so good, to be held and coddled like this. Lucifer pushes his face into the pillow, smiling, and strokes John's hand.</p><p class="p2">And then he hears it -- or rather doesn't hear it. No sound of rain against glass.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer's breath catches, and John presses his lips to the back of Lucifer's neck. "You noticed too?" he whispers. "The rain has stopped."</p><p class="p2">"I noticed." He lays his hand over John's.</p><p class="p2">John strokes Lucifer's chest, light and slow, without removing his hand from under Lucifer's. "I should... get dressed. Be on way my home."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer exhales deeply. He never should have put a deadline on their interlude. More fool him, he'd thought by the time the storm passed he'd have his fill of the boy and would be ready to say goodbye.</p><p class="p2">He's not. He's not satisfied. He's not ready.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer chooses each word with care. "I know we agreed to part when the rain stopped, but you don't have to go." John's hand pauses. "You could stay. With me. Here."</p><p class="p2">"You want me to stay."</p><p class="p2">"Yes. I do."</p><p class="p2">"But you have to go back to Hell."</p><p class="p2">"I don't have to go <em>today</em>." He weaves their fingers together and presses their hands to his chest. "There are so many things I still want to do with you. I want to fuck you while you're wearing your combat boots. I want to tease you all day and let you have your way with me at night. I want to be your slave for a day. I want to take you somewhere bright and crowded, and find someplace dark and deserted to have sex with you. I want to take you slowly throughout the night and finally let you come when the sun comes up."</p><p class="p2">John doesn't speak, but he tucks himself closer to Lucifer, his cock pressing harder against Lucifer's arse.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer kisses his hand. "I want to kiss you. I love the way you kiss me. I want you to keep kissing me. I don't want you to ever stop."</p><p class="p2">John's voice is hoarse. "We can't just kiss and fuck all the time."</p><p class="p2">"You mean like we have been for the last few days?" He has no idea how long it's been, he realizes. Four days, he thinks, maybe five. Enough for him to know that he and John are -- well, enough for him to <em>know</em>. "You're right. Practical John, you're right. We have to get out of bed sometimes. I want to take you to parties where we can dance. I want to listen to music with you. I want to cook with you. I want to shop with you. I want to see films with you. I want to do things that people everywhere do.</p><p class="p2">"Be normal with me. I want us to be boring and ordinary. It'll be <em>wonderful</em>."</p><p class="p2">John props himself up and looks at Lucifer over his shoulder. "Are you being serious? I can't tell. I think you're being serious but if you're not being serious --"</p><p class="p2">"I'm being serious," Lucifer says. He turns over and tugs John on top of him. John grins and rests his hands at the sides of Lucifer's head, holding himself up just enough so that they can look into each other's eyes. "Stay with me, John. I can take you anywhere you want to go, to study music or study magic or do something else entirely. There's so much to show you. I want to give you the world, John Constantine."</p><p class="p2">John kisses him, hard. "I want to stay with you." He grinds his hips against Lucifer's, making him gasp and writhe. "I want all those things you said. I want to dance and cook and everything you said with you. We could drive a caravan and stay in hostels, we could hitchhike from Lisbon to Prague, we could do <em>anything</em>."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer grabs John's hips. "I want to be your man."</p><p class="p2">John wraps his arms around Lucifer's head. "I want to be yours." He kisses Lucifer tenderly, and his hips slow to a delicious rolling wave.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer wraps his legs around him. He rarely asks for this, but -- but it's <em>John</em>, his beautiful boy. His man. "John, John, take me. Fuck me."</p><p class="p2">"Lucifer, yes, <em>fuck</em>," John groans. "Where's the lube?"</p><p class="p2">Lucifer gropes under the pillows. The lube tends to end up there when it doesn't fall to the floor and roll under the bed. He finds the bottle and pushes on John's chest. "Up for a minute. Let me do the prepping."</p><p class="p2">John kneels up and shoves a shaking hand through his hair, his gaze hungry. The sight of him gives Lucifer pause -- he's gorgeous like this, skin flushed, his body ready to have him, those lips, those <em>eyes</em> -- and it takes Lucifer a moment to gather himself enough, raise his hips, push lube into his hole and open himself enough to accept John's cock. He squeezes out more lube and wraps his hand around John's cock to stroke the slickness onto him. John's head falls back and his body arches.</p><p class="p2">"Lucifer," he breathes.</p><p class="p2">"Ready?" The hard cock in his hand says John is. "I'm ready." More than ready. He wants this so badly he thinks he might put John on his back and ride him if the boy hesitates.</p><p class="p2">John stoops over him. He runs his hands over Lucifer's body, from his throat to his thighs. He grasps Lucifer's thighs. "I'm ready."</p><p class="p2">"Do it." Lucifer raises his hips. "Fuck me, beautiful boy."</p><p class="p2">John's breath shudders as he pushes in, his teeth digging into his lower lip. "Oh, God," he whispers, but his tone is s full of pleasure and wonder that Lucifer doesn't even think to scold him.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer hooks a hand around the back of John's neck and tugs him closer. He kisses John's mouth. "That's it, John, darling. You feel so good. Keep going."</p><p class="p2">John pushes deeper, his arms shaking, his toes curling. His eyes bore into Lucifer's, hot and dark like burning coals. "You feel--" He laughs, breathless. "You feel so good. Fuck, Luce, you're hot. So hot. All kinds of hot." He strokes Lucifer's chest and kisses his mouth, with a nibble to Lucifer's lower lip. "My man. My gorgeous man."</p><p class="p2">Lucifer wraps his arms around John's neck. "I'm yours. Do what you will with me."</p><p class="p2">Another hard, hungry kiss. "I will. My man. My fallen angel. My Devil. My Lucifer."</p><p class="p2">He slams into Lucifer harder with each epithet, making Lucifer's body feel supple and lithe, pleasure rolling through him from his head to his toes. He crosses his legs at the ankles to hold John even tighter to him, and his body arches with John's thrusts. His heart beats so hard Lucifer thinks it could burst from his chest.</p><p class="p2">From the force of John's thrusts, the grind of his hips, even the muscles in his abdomen, Lucifer's body is a mess of pleasures -- and when John kisses him, Lucifer twists his fingers into John's hair and moans into his mouth, and comes hard enough to make the world retreat into nothing.</p><p class="p2">In his arms, John moans with him, all shivering limbs and hoarse cries. He exhales, "Lucifer," and slumps into him, gulping air.</p><p class="p2">Lucifer kisses him, still wrapped tight around him. "Beautiful boy," he whispers. "My boy."</p><p class="p2">"Yours," John whispers and kisses him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">== End Part 1 ==</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This installment of the "Sinnerman" series was inspired by "A Rainy Night In Soho" by the Pogues, which I ended up not using in any way. </p><p>There will be more about their past together. I have so many thoughts and ideas about their backstory and their current-timeline story, y'all have no idea.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from "Sinister Kid," the Black Keys</p></blockquote></div></div>
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